Little Strokes Fell Great Oaks
by Soni758
Summary: Why did Havoc start smoking? Why, besides Roy, does he suck at keeping girlfriends? And how does he stop smoking eventually ? "Anything is possible if done in little steps" HavocxOC, slight EdxWin, RoyxRiza. T bordering K.
1. A Bed of Nails

**Hiii... first FMA fanfic. Also first fanfic/update I've done in the last.. year? Fics have always been a "must be in the mood" type of thing for me so I hope this one lasts cuz I like this one~**

**I was debating to myself whether to have a main Ed/Winry fic.. or go for one of the minor characters. And I thought, poor ol' Havoc needs some love in the fanfic community so here it is :)**

**Please review. Havoc will love you. XD**

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I have a bad habit of not listening to details when it's necessary…

"My name is Addison Robin."

And listening too much into things that aren't necessary…

"Military scum. Take responsibility-"

Sometimes I wish I had better timing in life. But hey - you don't always get what you wish.

**Chapter One | A Bed of Nails**

_The dead deciduous trees of winter were swayed to and fro by the howling wind. It spat snowflakes on every window of Eastern Amestris, and only three weeks till Christmas, the weather was getting colder every day. South from the Eastern Military Base, the clinking of beer glasses could be heard in a small but homey tavern. The place was nice; men roared with laughter and puffed cigars over the snooker table, carefree without their wives for the night. Sat by the polished oak counter, two men twenty years apart conversed so casually, like long life friends._

_"So punk…how's military life for ya?" The skin-headed, muscular man chugged down his beer, wiping the froth from his lips. He took a cigarette out, and directed the packet towards the younger._

_His companion, a man of nineteen years old grimaced at the tobacco. "No. You know I don't." He nodded at the bar man for another swing, "Anyway, not quite what I thought Oz old man… but the shooting hall is good – I guess."_

_Oz chuckled. He gave the 'kid' a light punch for the "old man" comment but disregarded it – mostly. "What, the Jean Havoc bored already?" _

_"I'm not bored. General Raven is just a…"_

_"Jerk?"_

_"Woah Oz – he's not a jerk. That's my new commanding officer you're on about. He just has jerk-ish and dick-ish qualities, but besides that – yeah okay, nice man."_

_The two men looked at each other than laughed. Oz had recently quit the military for his family of a newborn son and twelve year old daughter. It was an easy process; he wasn't very high in the military pyramid. The younger Jean Havoc, was a ripe graduate from the military academy. He was known for his smarts, "make-do" attitude, and stunning firearms ability._

_"Enough about me," said Havoc, one arm leaning lazily on the counter. "What's your son called again? How's the missus doing?"_

_"Adrian. And Missus Penny is doing fine…Big Sis – what we call my daughter now, is a great little helper when I'm not around." The man that was built like a wall always had a softer tone of voice when talking about his family. It made Havoc wonder if he'd ever have the privilege to feel that way._

_"I thought you quit the military to get more time with them…?"_

_"Well. Yeah. But my job now has… odd hours. I'll stick with it till I find another."_

_"Oz," Havoc took a gulp of beer, "where do you work any-"_

_Simultaneously with "where" Oz called for another beer. "Enough about me. When do I say 'how's the missus' to you?" He grinned, "I mean, what happened to your last girlfriend?"_

_Havoc's eyebrow arched in a sceptical manner in retort to the "last" as if suggesting Oz already knew he was dumped. But he couldn't, after all Havoc knew he wasn't that predictable. "S-She wasn't really my girlfriend, we were just seeing, testing, so, there was no feel, we moved on…"_

_"You mean she hooked up with someone else?"_

_"Yyyyeea – No."_

* * *

_"No. No, I'll listen. Just please, please don't hurt her anymore." His expression in full agony, and the whip marks still burning fresh, the scary-looking man did not look so scary anymore. Oz searched into the eyes of his beloved Penny, bound in rope. Those grey-green orbs blinked, then blinked again slowly. It was Penny's way of telling him she was okay. But they both knew she was far from 'okay'; the never-ending tears and bleeding bullet wound in her foot told him that much._

_"Ta fer understandin' Oswald. Now, you're not cahootin' wiv'em any time soon… right?" The speaker was covered by a human barrage of men that looked like the average Joe, all wearing eerily sincere smiles, but a weapon of some sort in each hand. From his accent Oz could tell the man was from the far southern areas of Amestris, but it wasn't like that helped with the situation._

_The man behind the retainers gave a sinister sounding chuckle. "'Cause m'boss aint as kind as me and I got no guarantee about wifey's safety here if I gotta call the big-man."_

_Every shift of the feet or mutter under the breath could be heard in this room. It echoed slightly, and hearing the stifling cries of his wife repeating in his ear made Oswald think._

_"Yer know what to do right?" _

_Time was ticking. Him against the clock._

_Again, Oz searched his wife's eyes – they were always full of answers, always logical, weighing the pros and cons. She blinked away the tears, eyes now full of drive. She shook her head, eyebrows furrowed – it was Penny's way of telling him not to be reckless, her way of telling him not to do whatever he was thinking, because he was a man that worked on instinct, not logic._

_Southern-accent man sighed. "Or, we can…"_

_"No!"_

_"…What'cha say…?"_

_"No – Yes. Have it your way."_

_"Well err... that's mighty dandy Oswald. Let's wrap this up fella's."_

_He didn't need logic. He needed Penny - alive. He looked into Penny's saddened eyes and whispered "I'm sorry."_

* * *

"_'I'm sorry, I think I have to be somewhere_…'" mocked Breda, putting on a girly pose. Then, with the voice of a Sports commentator, he then roared, "Then Mustang pulls up the curve, diving in for the kill, and scores!"

"And then-" continued Fuery, "He does that twinkle-eye-grin thing,"

"Yeah," Falman nodded as if having experience in this matter, "and then she says _'Oh, it's not like I didn't like you-'_"

They, Breda, Falman, and Fuery burst into laughter, with, but mainly _at_ their colleague Jean Havoc. His figure seemed to turn white to his co-workers as the scene replayed over and over again in his head. Three words: Dancing, Feet, Spaghetti. Let you imagination run wild.

The door slammed against the wall, and with the airs and graces of a Commanding officer, Colonel Mustang strolled in. First lieutenant Riza Hawkeye followed, carrying a stack on papers.

"Second Lieutenant Havoc." He ordered.

The ash at the end of Havoc's cigarette crumbled and fell onto the stack Riza Hawkeye had placed there. The twenty-five year old was still zoning out, recalling last night's failure of a date. It wasn't the first time, he should be used to the shock – but still.

"Havoc." repeated Mustang, his patience wearing thin. He swiped the cigarette from Jean, and put it in the ash tray that Riza was so readily holding. "Look – don't expect sympathy from me, your failed date had nothing to do with me this time."

Behind him, Breda and Fury had the expressions of gossipy house wives mouthing _"oh really?"_

Mustang gave a glare to them, and turned to Havoc who was now paying attention. "So," he smirked. "Finish the stack here (at this point Havoc was looking at the stack grudgingly) and report to me after lunch. It's important."

* * *

_"It's important that no one there gets out."_

_Havoc stood in station as General Raven barked (Yes, literally barked, Havoc decided the General also had dog-ish qualities) his orders. It was a very sudden mission, three days after Havoc met up with his pal Oz infact. But they had been alerted by "trusted" sources that some gangs specialising in drug dealing were meeting up in a pub called "Purple Dragon"._

_Havoc couldn't help but roll his eyes at the name. _

_"And if it wasn't obvious enough…" _

_He wasn't honest about it, but he was a little nervous. Just a little. This was his second field mission, and he was the only one in the squad that had less than three years experience. He excelled in stealth, so General Raven counted on him. That's what Havoc hoped. He didn't know the man had ulterior motives to this mission._

_They made their way through the guards with ease. Hitting nervous systems or head on K.O-ing people was child's play. The walls were filthy with a blackish grunge and as they made their way down to the basement of the pub, the sound of their footsteps was drowned in the clashing of metal on metal and guns. Havoc's heart beat galloped faster than he did as he clutched onto the Walther PP handgun, and even seemed to do a double summersault flip which nearly rendered him immobile when the shrieking voice of a woman pierced his ear drums. Would he make out of this alive? Would any of his comrades? He didn't want to think about that detail, and just focussed on getting the job done; have all members sustained._

_The now team of three (other two were standing guard) stood outside of the metal door. On the signal, Havoc shot through the lock and kicked the door down._

**_Focus, Havoc told himself. Objective One: Shout cool entrance phrase._**

_"Freeze!" (He always wanted to say that at least once)_

_"Jean!"_

**_Objective Two: Assess situation calmly._**

_"Oz!"_

_His comrade shoved past him. "Don't just stand there Havoc, shoot 'em!"_

**_Objective Three: Take action by tackling the weakest links…_**

_Havoc felt the weight of a thousand bricks topple onto his head, and he fell to the ground._

**_…of your opponent._**

Oh god. The damn details.

* * *

**Just incase you're wondering...****First few lines in the centre are Havoc's thoughts... or something like that :D**

Little strokes fell great oaks: even though something may seem impossible, if you break it up into small parts and take one step at a time, you will succeed.

A Bed of Nails: if a situation, especially a job, is a bed of nails, it is difficult or unpleasant _He resigned last week, describing the post as a bed of nails._

**I think I'm gonna have each chapter theme type of thing as an idiom/phrase... well, that depends how long I can go for finding a relevant one for each chapter XD**

**Hope you enjoyed my first FMA fic... please review, and stay with this if you're interested to review on the OC later on- I hope its not a mary-sue!**


	2. Ace in the Hole

**I've re-written the first chapter, hopefully it makes more sense now XD Italicised paragraph is a flashback.. a really long flashback.. haha..**

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**Chapter Two | Ace in the hole**

"Important…" mused Havoc. "Im-por-tant… Important?" He rubbed his chin, and glanced out of the window. It had just rained, leaving even the blood-stained military looking cleansed. The crisp November weather made the outside colder than the inside of the building, so windows became foggy as water vapour condensed against them. "What could be so important?" He ran his finger along the windows down the hall in thought, "A promotion?"

He suddenly felt a slap on the back and turned round to find Breda. "Hah!" The Lieutenant clasped a hand on Havoc's shoulder, "Don't kid yourself, Havoc, I've had enough laughs for today."

"Wha- how'd you know I'm not getting some important mission?"

"'Cause…" Breda stopped his explanation, and took out a cigarette, offering it to Havoc in which he accepted as they strolled to see the Colonel.

Breda exhaled slowly, a thin stream of smoke exiting his lips. "Don't you know what day it is today? (He didn't wait for Havoc's reply) The Academy's sending some 'potentials' for work shadowing, and you know how some of the higher ups like to piss off Mustang – dump a bunch of newbies for him to babysit, while…" Breda didn't finish off the sentence, as he spotted a general at the end of the corridor approaching. He waited for the man to pass them. "So yeah, while Mustang is in on something with Hughes."

"Ah. Yeah I noticed. Seems pretty big."

The two dropped the subject, knowing better to dwell in any situation that the Colonel didn't inform them of before hand. They didn't show it, but all of Colonel Mustang's subordinates respected him and his wishes greatly, despite him being a conniving, procrastinating, girlfriend stealing, window-cleaning man.

They reached the outside of the office. Breda glanced at Havoc, who wore his trademark deadpan but also 'What-the-hell-now?' look with a cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth. He smirked. "Hey Havoc, pass me your cigarette."

"Hm?"

"Don't want Mustang catching you with that right?"

"Haha."

* * *

_"Hahahahahaha!" laughed the man behind the human-wall of retainers, applauding. "This is rich! Oswald, Oswald my man… yer ratted on us? When d'ya find the time ter do that?" His hands stopped clapping. "Hmm…you impress me Ozzy, you really do."_

_Oswald, all beaten up and sore, stared at the three men clad in black from head to toe, and the man who he could spot anywhere; Jean Havoc. Why was he here? Why were they here? He didn't know if he should feel relieved or not. Whether he went with the men who had his wife's life or the military, he would die either way. But… if he was with the military, Penny would indefinitely be spared, no matter what they find out about him._

_"Don't just stand there Havoc, shoot 'em!"_

_Recovering from the shock of seeing Oz and his wife there, Havoc aimed for the suspects he was briefed on. Before he could even fire his first load, someone snuck up behind him with bricks, but was then shot down by one of the other two military personnel. _

_The next few minutes were a blur to Oz. Firearms were shooting everywhere, and at some point someone had set off a smoke bomb. He crawled across the floor as fast as he could, not caring whose feet was whose as he struggled to get to Penny. He knew someone had tried to cut his tendons but missed and sliced his calf, but he didn't care. He knew his head was bleeding from a drop-kick that was meant for someone else, but he didn't care. In what was five minutes, a harsh battle was won for one side, and was lost for the other._

_"P-Penny!"_

_There she was, still tied up, knees drawn to her chest and curled in a ball on her side, eyes streaming with tears. Somehow, none of the bullets had hit her and amidst the fight between the drug dealers and the military, she was forgotten. Oswald removed the cloth in her mouth and embraced her._

_"Penny. I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"_

_She was out of breath from screaming whilst having to bite the cloth, and her throat and eyes were dried out. But, she pressed her body against him, hugging with all her might. "I love you."_

_Her eyes of relief and love turned to shock. Hearing the scream of a man coming up behind them, Oz pushed Penny to the ground, covering her with his body. A blade penetrated his tough skin and muscles in his upper abdomen, and he gritted his teeth to stop himself screaming, as it would scare Penny. If only just that would stop her screaming too._

_"Oz! Oz... You're hurt... You're hurt!" _

_"I-I'm fine, Penny." _

_The man that attacked Oz suddenly hit the ground. A clear hole, only 1 centimetre wide, from the front of his head and straight to the back could be seen. It was if someone had stabbed him with a giant needle. It wasn't a bullet wound, as a bullet could not create such a clean hole, but it was definitely a blade of some sort. The man on the floor was unrecognisable now; blood was spurting out of his brain, soaking his face. Penny gasped at the sight._

_"Oz…Oz?" She looked at the man on her lap – he had passed out._

_The smoke bomb was beginning to fade, and the sound of metal against metal was gone too. Only a single gun could be heard, but what it was defending against was still unknown. _

_A searing pain. _

_Penny gasped for air. She gasped for air but found none of it was reaching her lungs. She felt her chest. Wet. Wet with red. Red with blood. Blood, leaking from her chest. Her left lung had been hit. Her eyes floated to the ceiling, asking for some help from above. All she saw was three figures, engaging in some sort of fight, and a fourth in the corner, rising to stand slowly._

_One of the two men with Havoc bellowed with pain, clutching his side. He yelled to his accomplice, "Get him, dammit, GET HIM!"_

* * *

"Get him." Growled Mustang. "Please get him here, First Lieutenant, he is late."

"Patience, Colonel, he'll be here."

"He better be, I have a meeting- ah." Havoc shuffled in awkwardly. It seemed to the Colonel that he had been standing outside for a while, judging from the sheepish look on his face. "Look who decided to show up."

"Cut me some slack, Colonel," said Havoc, rubbing the back of his head, wearing a cheeky grin. He coughed, and did a quick salute as he sat down on the couch by the Colonel's desk. He propped his right leg over his left knee, and swung an arm over the back of the seat.

"Hm. Well, it's because I give you too much slack that you're getting this job." Mustang held out his hand lazily, in which the Lieutenant dutifully passed him a brown envelope. "We've been sent a prospective candidate to join the Eastern quarters, fresh from the Academy." Mustang noticed Havoc's straight smile droop slightly, and chose to ignore it. "And you're going to attend to this person for three weeks."

"Three weeks!" If Havoc still had his cigarette, it would have hit the floor, as his mouth was gaping open.

"Three weeks." Mustang's lips curved to a small smile, and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Special case, it seems. It should do you some good, looking after someone, being a 'senior'."

Havoc retorted bluntly, "I'm not good at looking after people." This was said factually as if it could never be changed. It was true, he tried once, and it failed epicly. He was a solo-man, (unless girls considered) and even if he were to 'look after' someone, it would always be at a distance. Being a guardian, a father, a brother, had long since been established as impossible tasks in his mind. "Do I really have to babysit this chump?" In all honesty, Havoc was just saying this. He knew he didn't have a choice, but he thought he'd give a try and milk his way through this. "Colonel, whoever the newbie is, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want-"

Havoc paused. Mustang had that stupid grin on his face. Not a 'Yeah, yeah' stupid grin. It was an 'I know you're doing something stupid and you don't even get it yet' stupid grin. Even Hawkeye rolled her eyes!

"W-What?"

"The 'newbie'," started Mustang, lifting a finger towards the door, "Is standing right here."

Whisking his head around, Havoc stared at the person stood by the door. The 'newbie's' arms were crossed, with an un-amused, partially bored expression. This person, with a crop of messy brunette hair and green eyes lifted a hand in response. "…Hi."

Mustang snorted a laugh, and beckoned the new person over. "Sit down, Ace. And excuse my subordinate's rudeness."

Staring with disbelief, for not noticing this person's presence, Havoc examined the newbie. He decided that the candidate was skinny for his age, and not particularly tall. The messy hair framed his baby face and the military uniform sagged at his shoulders. But when he walked, it was smooth, each step taken with care, almost gliding across the floor as he sat on the couch opposite him.

Mustang stood up, hand directing to Ace, then back to Havoc. "Havoc, Ace. Ace, Havoc."

"Ahem," coughed Hawkeye with slight disapproval, "perhaps a proper introduction, Sir?" She was always one for order and courtesy, and despite being in the room for no less than an hour, even Ace had gathered that the Lieutenant must be the one keeping this man in check.

Mustang rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Alright. Ace?"

"Uh…" The newbie stood up, putting forward a hand to Havoc. "Nice to meet you. My name is-"

_"What the hell?" _thought Havoc. _"How did I not notice this dude? He must be a hawk – no, that's Riza – A ghost! A ghost! Havoc... you're losing you're touch. You're too relaxed. You let a newbie get one over you. Man…maybe you are a slacker Havoc. And nothing's worse than being called a slacker by a slacker." _He looked over towards the Colonel, who had surprisingly, a serious expression over his face. _"Well... whatever. Whatever the man says, goes, I guess."_

"But," finished off the newbie, with a very serious-work-ethic tone of voice, "just call me Ace. The name kind of stuck."

Snapping to reality, Havoc instinctively shook the hand and nodded. "Mm. Nice to meet ya too."

"Great!" exclaimed the Colonel. "So you agree? Perfect."

"Geh." Havoc just realised what he just did. _"Damn my gentlemanly instincts." _"But Colonel,"

"Wait till next time Havoc, I'm a busy man." Mustang threw his coat over his shoulder, and exited quickly with the Lieutenant following close behind. "Oh." He popped his head round the corner of the door, "Just show Ace here what you can, the ropes... and all that." And with a wave of the hand he was off like the wind, chuckling to himself down the corridor.

Havoc's shoulders sagged a little, like some great weight was put on him. He straightened up, scratching the back of his head.

"The hell, man…"

* * *

_"Man…" groaned Havoc. The world seemed to seep in as blotches of colour in his vision, as opposed to the previous blackness he felt when he went out. Realising where he was, and what was going on again, he got up slowly. His hearing wasn't properly back yet, so he was cautious in the case someone attacked him._

_No one did._

_The place was empty of living people. Around him, were the corpses of the drug dealers. The stench wasn't as bad as it looked for now, as they were still fresh. But the sight wasn't pretty. Blood was dripping from the ceiling, most likely from cut arteries. Some gasps and dying breaths were audible, but Havoc knew, and they knew, they weren't going to make it. He had failed their mission. The goal was to sustain, not kill. What the hell happened when he passed out? His eyes scanned for his comrades. They weren't there. They must've survived. He wanted to look for the boss, the man that spoke with authority when they first got to the scene, but Havoc had no idea what he looked like because he was hidden behind his lackeys. But wait. When he was drifting to consciousness, he heard one of his comrades say "Get him." So, someone was left alive to capture?_

_Havoc checked for his guns. They weren't there. Figures. Someone took it when he was out. Whether it was the enemy or comrade that took it worried him. Stepping through the corpses to look for a weapon to defend himself, he suddenly felt a tug at his leg. Instinctively, he kicked it away._

_"You…"_

_A…woman's voice? Suddenly the very moment before Havoc was hit by the bricks came back to him. Oz. Oz and Penny!_

_"You...bastard…"_

_Detecting the source of the muffled voice, Havoc crouched down and turned over the woman with care. Her lungs were hit, and it was amazing she had the energy to talk, let alone move her arm. She was slowly panting for air, but failing. Her body was growing limp and cold, and in his arms, Havoc could feel the little life in her leaving. It was horrible. She was just as beautiful as Oz had described her._

_"P-Penny? Don't talk, I'll get you to a… Where's Oz?"_

_He looked to his left. Oz was facing the floor, a red figure. He must've died earlier on in the battle. The blood was a crusty crimson layer, like rust, covering the magnificent tattoos the man prided himself of._

_"No…"_

_Havoc's face screwed up in a mixture of regret, sadness, and fear. Even his voice was wavering, but he had to pick up the pieces, he had to. Even though he knew it wasn't his job to, even though Raven will probably whine at him for not being in on the action when needed. Well really... what did he know at that time? Havoc was confused, and just did what he felt was right. _

_"Penny?" What could he say? She was dying. "Is there anything... You.. Erm.. Want to say?" His lips twisted to a terrible sarcastic smile. What was he doing?_

_Still panting, she weakly lifted her arm and stabbed Havoc's with a small, blunt knife. "Bastard…the Military…scum…"_

_He gritted his teeth, it was the first time he'd seen someone die so close. The pain was not from the wound, it was from the heart. It shocked him that his best friend was dead, it shocked him that he was holding onto his best friend's wife who was dying. It shocked him that… everyone he worked with in the military has probably been through a similar experience, and despite the pain, he knew this was necessary. This was a lesson to be learnt. He was grateful for his life, and grateful that he can live to make a change._

_Change. That's it._

_"What can I do for you?" His voice a whisper, he wondered if this was a naïve thing to do._

_She opened her eyes, just barely, took one miniscule breath, and grabbed Havoc's top with a weak grip. "Military scum. Take responsibility."_

_He nodded._

_Then she was out. Out like a light, out of this world, going where his best friend and her husband were going to. Havoc didn't know where. He just hoped it was a nice place. It had to be… right? The smell had finally got to him. Almost hyperventilating, Havoc stood up, wobbly at first, but headed out, not turning back. When he passed the corner, all the images, the smells, the exchange with Oz's wife, the look of Oz's face, everything got to him, and took form as a messy pile of vomit._

* * *

**Please Review :) Hope its making some relative sense.. **

**ps: To divide the 'scenes' I usually use * * * but for some reason it doesn't show up.. so I'm using the bar-thing. Anyone know why?**

Ace in the hole: An ace in the hole is something other people are not aware of that can be used to your advantage when the time is right.


End file.
